Chapter 3
THREE
MICAH
I don’t want to get out of the car.
It’s stupid. It’s not going to make it any easier if I linger, but going inside will mean that I have to face the aftermath of what had happened in the bar.
I still don’t understand why what I did was so wrong.
Adam slams the driver side door shut. I tense, and two seconds later, he’s yanking the passenger door open. I don’t dare look at him.
“What the fuck are you cowering for?” Adam asks. “You’re scared of me, but not terrified of the fucking gangster?”
Weirdly, he’s right. I had been strangely fearless when it had come to Ilya, and I’m not sure why. I know what he is. Adam has made it abundantly clear that the man is dangerous.
Which makes him sending me in to get close that much more devastating.
“Do you even care if I die?” I whisper. “If he found out, if he killed me. Would you even care?”
I dare to look up at Adam. I don’t know what to make of his expression, a strange furrow in his brows.
“You aren’t going to die,” Adam says. “That’s why I had to pull you out before you messed up more than you already did. You were supposed to find a way to join his business, not his bed.”
“He— I thought—” I begin. “You told me to get close any way possible. He was interested in me. This was easier than convincing him to hire me!”
“Do you think this is some sort of fucking movie?” Adam demands. “That you’re Mata Hari?”
I shake my head. “You told me you’d arrest me if I didn’t infiltrate his organization!” I protest, and he grabs my arm to yank me out of the car. I wince, straightening from my stumble.
Adam kicks the door shut, then drags me toward the house. I struggle to keep up, stumbling over the walkway leading to the front door.
“Christ, how did you survive even this long?” Adam demands as he unlocks the front door.
He shoves me inside, and it’s all I can do not to trip over the shoe rack.
He hangs up his coat. “We’ll call this all off.
It was stupid of me, anyway. I should have realized you wouldn’t be able to handle real work. ”
The biting comment makes my shoulders hunch, and I stare down at the floor as I take my shoes off. I can’t do anything right.
Even when I’d been dealing drugs, I hadn’t been very good at it. I’d given people breaks or refused to sell if I thought they couldn’t afford it.
My conscience hadn’t stopped me from getting them addicted in the first place.
My conscience hadn’t stopped me from using their money to buy my food.
My clothes.
My cello.
“I can just go about it differently,” I offer in a small voice, but I know that’s not going to go anywhere. I should’ve known Adam would never let me close to another man, especially not one who’d kissed me so sweetly.
It’s my fault for not realizing I’d interpreted him wrong.
Adam turns to give me a familiar look, the one that has me feeling small and insignificant. “Differently? What would you do differently? You’d get between his legs and suck his cock?”
“No,” I whisper.
No matter how desperate I’ve been, I’ve never had to whore myself out before.
Well.
Sometimes it feels like giving myself over to Adam for the smallest things counts. The thought instantly bothers me; I shouldn’t be thinking that way about the man I love.
And I do love him.
It’s just that sometimes…
Sometimes I wish he’d treat me better, that he’d return to being the smiling man who’d gotten me out of the charges for distribution and brought me into his home.
Adam shakes his head and moves down the hall to the living room. “Christ. I really thought I had this promotion in the bag, but of course you’d sabotage it for me.”
I could’ve told him I’d never be a good informant, that I’d fuck it up like I fuck everything up, but he’d been so insistent.
For a little while, I’d been proud that he’d even thought I could do it to begin with.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, following him down the hall. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.
Adam sits down on the loveseat, legs spread wide so there isn’t enough space for me next to him.
He covers his face with his hand and lets out a frustrated sound.
“Well, unless you can magically get me all the information I need on Zima’s organization, there’s no making up for it.
Bad enough my last informant disappeared.
And he wasn’t sleeping with the angry mobster. ”
I shudder. It brings me back to the question I’d asked him only minutes ago: doesn’t he care about me at all? What if I’d succeeded in getting close, only to get caught?
Then I’d be the one who had disappeared.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
I step close to him, then kneel down at his feet in a familiar position. This is the part where he normally strokes my hair when he’s in a good mood.
But he’s not in a good mood, and when his fingers tangle in my hair, the hold is rough, harsh.
Adam forces my head close to his crotch, rubbing my nose against his clothed cock. I fight back a whimper of pain when he twists his fingers until he’s pulling hard at my hair, but I know what he expects.
He uses his free hand to unfasten his pants, taking his cock out.
“Well, since you’ve been gagging for it all night,” Adam says, rubbing his cock against my cheek. “Come on. Open up.”
It’s a relief, in a way.
I’d expected him to make a nasty comment about how I’d sullied my mouth by kissing Ilya like I had. I’d expected him to refuse me entirely, to be cold and distant and make me feel like I’m less than nothing.
At least this way, I can do something useful. This is better than being rejected.
I open my mouth for him, letting him guide his cock past my lips and over my tongue. He’s not erect, not yet, but as I lick and suck, he gets hard in my mouth.
When Adam and I had first started dating, I’d loved doing this for him. He praised me, and he said he’d never had anyone as good as me before.
But two years in, the kind words are gone. He grunts as he thrusts into my mouth, and he holds me in place as he drives deeper into me. My eyes water and I force myself to stay calm and breathe through my nose until he finally backs off enough for me to get air again.
I imagine he’s saying those words again.
You’re doing so good, Micah.
I love when you do that.
Just like that. You know just how to do it, don’t you, baby?
I let my mind drift as he fucks my face, thinking about all the times he’s taken his time with me, all the times he’s been careful and loving.
It’s not always like this, I remind myself. It’s because I fucked up, and I won’t fuck up like that again.
I startle when his fingers tighten in my hair, drawn back into the moment.
“Suck it, Micah,” he orders me, breathless and harsh.
I obey, not bothering with artistry as I suck hard enough to make my cheeks hollow out. Over and over, I lick and suck and take him as deep as I can.
It’s not quite into my throat, but he doesn’t seem to mind today.
He holds me in place as he comes, spilling all over my tongue. I drink down every drop, careful not to let any of it leak out of the corners of my mouth, and only when he shoves me away do I get to take a breath.
I sit back on my heels, looking up at him, searching his expression for any signs of forgiveness.
Adam keeps his eyes closed and breathes slowly. After a few moments, he sits up, not bothering to tuck his cock away. “I’ve got an early morning.” He looks down at my crotch. “You can take care of yourself, right?”
I’m barely hard, to the point where it’s not even worth it for a sad, lonely session of jerking off by myself. I nod anyway and force a smile. “Yes,” I tell him. “I’ll be in bed in a few minutes.”
I want to go out to the car and get my cello, to make sure the instrument hasn't been damaged by his careless handling, but he’ll get angry if I do. Instead, I go to the bathroom and sit down on the toilet seat.
My cock is already soft again, but if he thinks I didn’t get off on sucking his cock, he’ll get angry.
I can’t win tonight, and I don’t want to tempt fate again.
I can’t.
I count to sixty, five times, then I head back out into the bedroom to get ready for bed. He snaps at me to turn the light off, and I do, quietly sliding into bed with him.
I’m not tired.
I can’t sleep.
All I can think about is Ilya Zima, and his lips, and the light brush of his beard against my chin.